


Your Black And White Needs A Little Bit Of Red

by raendown



Series: NarutoCouplesWeek2018 [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13795986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Hashirama is the sort of person who believes in love at first sight. Mito isn't but shecanbe convinced to take a second look.





	Your Black And White Needs A Little Bit Of Red

Her hair was the first thing he noticed about her. That might seem like a ridiculous thing to say when one considered that she had been standing in a room with a dozen other Uzushio shinobi, all of whom shared her astounding red hair color, but Hashirama maintained that the moment his eyes had fallen upon her for the first time he had been drawn to her hair before anything else.

The deep red hue had less of an impact after meeting several others with similar coloring, it was true, although he would swear to the end of his days that hers shone the brightest of all. The twin buns her locks had been twisted up in to complimented her face wonderfully and he was immediately fascinated by the twin seals she had chosen to decorate them with. Several ornaments clattered and tinkled with every movement of her head yet even from the first glance he had never doubted for a single moment that each and every one of them doubled as a hidden weapon of some sort.

It took a few moments but eventually he did manage to look away from her beautiful hair. When he did, it wasn’t very long before he began to notice other virtues of this most fascinating woman.

When Mito met his eyes with such a steely, indifferent gaze in the face of a man with a reputation such as his own, Hashirama’s heart began to beat wildly in his chest. This was no mere girl before him; this was not a woman who would swoon at the feet of a brave warrior and offer her hand to the first man who claimed himself in love with her. No; Uzumaki Mito was a woman whose heart would be hard earned and never lightly given.

After one hour in her presence he knew he would do whatever it took to be worthy of her. She spoke out boldly no matter how her father tried to quiet her, added opinions and suggestions to the meeting despite the fact that both her father and his council obviously wished her to hold her tongue. Hashirama quieted them all with a dark look and encouraged her to speak her mind – and what a mind it was! By the end of her first suggestion he was intrigued. By the time she made her first demand he had moved quickly into infatuated.

Eventually the meeting had to come to an end and Hashirama marveled that no one else in the room seemed to hear the choir of angels that he did as Mito rose gracefully to her feet and bid them all a good evening. After making his excuses he hurried to follow as quickly as it could be considered polite to do so.

“My Lady,” he called after her. Mito paused where she had reached the doorway leading out of the building, turning back to regard him with one brow arched in question.

“Senju-san.”

“Please,” Hashirama breathed as he sketched a quick bow. “I beg of you, call me Hashirama.”

“Did you need something?”

“Ah, not really,” he admitted.

Her brow arched ever so slightly higher before her eyes rolled in irritation and she turned away again, floating out the door. It had only just barely snapped shut behind her when Hashirama reached it and pulled it open again to see her descending the steps outside.

Footsteps thundering on the wood of the porch, Hashirama came to a skidding halt at the top and called out desperately once more.

“Mito-hime, please, all I desire is a moment of your time!”

“As do many others,” she informed him dismissively.

“Just to talk! I find you fascinating!”

“Have you any idea how many times I’ve been told that before?”

Weariness heavy in her stance, she turned to look back at him over one shoulder and Hashirama swallowed thickly. Certainly her beauty alone was enough to knock him sideways, and he was quite ready to believe that many men before him had lauded her for it, but that wasn’t what had him feeling so stunned at the moment. He was speaking before he even realized it, a habit his brother constantly despaired of.

“You have the deadliest eyes I’ve ever seen!”

“Deadly?” Expression growing curious, she turned towards him a bit more. “I’ve been described in many ways before but ‘deadly’ is not one of them.” Hashirama nodded emphatically.

“But you do! They are! With one gaze alone I’ll bet you could pierce an opponent right down to the bone. Even if I had not heard your words before during the meeting, by your eyes alone I would be able to see your intelligence. Others might compare your hair color to fire but I see it more in your eyes.”

Smiling, he tried to make sense of his hurried words by tracing shapes in the air. While he couldn’t be too sure that either method was effective at getting his point across the way he wanted, he was certain that she was intrigued. At least, she hadn’t turn to leave again just yet. Her expression remained curious and her lips pursed with obvious thoughtfulness.

“If you would but grant me a moment of your time I wish only to know what kind of man you would consider worthy of being your partner, to know if I might have a chance to become that man.”

“Become? You would change yourself to earn my favor?”

“To be worthy of it.” Shifting his weight, Hashirama leaned forward earnestly. “I believe one should never be handed anything that one has not earned. Like my brother says: that’s how the last generation all ended up with such big heads!” He tittered nervously at his own joke.

“An interesting outlook, I must say. Quite unique. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man like you before, Hashirama-san.”

“You said my name!”

Beaming with delight, he made as though to bow to her in thanks. It was then that he discovered how close he had gotten to the edge of the porch, just a little bit too late to stop himself from overbalancing forwards off of it. With a plaintive cry of dismay he tumbled head over heels in to the lovingly shaped bushes beside the stairs. The leafy branches cushioned his fall just enough that he didn’t quite thud heavily down to the ground, though he did still end up in a rather embarrassing position on his back with his feet slightly above his head and pointed directly at the woman he’d been hoping _not_ to shame himself in front of.

Cheeks burning, he scrambled to free himself from the clutches of the bush which had caught him. He rubbed at the nape of his neck in embarrassment before giving a small mewl of sadness when he noticed how his fall has crushed the plant.

In his distraction, he failed to notice the way Mito leaned in with interest as he fluttered about looking apologetic.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I can fix it, promise!”

Without waiting for a response he brought his hands together, interlocking his fingers in a seal that was as natural to him as breathing. Chakra rushed out of him and infused the bush he had accidentally left misshaped, encouraging it to grow. The branches slowly reached up towards the sky and curled around themselves until it at least somewhat resembled what it had been before he fell in to it. Still a little pink around the ears, he turned back to Mito and began apologizing all over again.

Mito, however, was staring at the bush with open surprise on her face.

“So the rumors are true,” she said. “I had thought your fabled ‘Wood Style’ to be little more than a myth.” Hashirama tilted his head.

“Oh that? Yeah I get that a lot. I don’t know why it’s so unbelievable, it’s just a kekkei genkai like any other.”

“But yours is unique, is it not? Your parents did not have it and your brother cannot use it, if my information is correct.”

“No, that’s correct.” Hashirama gave an easy shrug. “I just sort of made it up I guess. Which is funny because Tobirama is the smart one; he’s the one that’s always inventing things.” As he smiled brightly he once again managed to miss the way that Mito looked at him, intrigued and almost considering.

He did not, however, miss it when she hummed and turned away, starting up the path again like she meant to end the conversation and leave him there with no warning. Squawking in panic, he stumbled after her before she could get too far.

“You’re a busy woman,” he said in a rush, trotting at her side. “Will you be at the meetings tomorrow as well? I hope you will. I’d love it if we could talk again – oomph!”

All hopes of making a good impression of himself flew out the window at last as he caught one foot on the back of the other and went crashing down in the dirt, sprawled out across the road like a child rolling about in play. For a moment he simply lay there and pouted, disappointed that he had lost his chance. If experience told him anything it was that no matter what the romance cliché’s said, no woman wanted a man who would quite literally fall at her feet.

Eventually he had to get up, though. Rolling to one side, he sat up and patted down his front before sheepishly looking up to see how badly he had damaged her opinion of him. What he saw was not what he expected and he found himself captivated anew.

Mito held one delicate hand in front of her mouth, hiding an amused smile that lit up her features. Before she had been queenly. Now she appeared to him as a goddess, more beautiful than any creature who could possibly belong to this earth. Surely no human could be as lovely as she that looked coyly down at him from above, her head tilted just so to expose one side of her long creamy neck. No matter how she posed herself it was still her eyes which captivated him. How they sparkled while she laughed!

“I will, in fact, be present for your conference with the council tomorrow,” she told him. Still holding one hand in front of her mouth, she lifted the hem of her kimono with the other and took one step backwards, holding his gaze. “I look forward to speaking to you again, Hashirama-san.”

With that she turned and this time when she walked away Hashirama let her go. Partly out of respect for the fact that she obviously considered their conversation over, partly because he was stunned in to immobility. She had _smiled at him_. He wasn’t sure he would ever recover from such an auspicious moment in his life. No other woman would ever be able to compare.

And she was looking forward to speaking to him tomorrow!

Hashirama finally scrambled to his feet then and grinned stupidly down the bend in the road where he had watched Mito disappear. She hadn’t answered his question at all about what sort of man she would consider worthy of her attentions but he had a feeling that she would be much more willing to get in to the subject on the morrow. Once he knew what kind of man she was looking for he would know whether or not he stood even the slightest chance.

Heading back to the small administration building where even now he was supposed to be participating in negotiations for trade and peaceful cooperation, Hashirama barely even notice the extra bounce in his step. When he returned to the now-empty conference room and was met with the irritated glare of his younger brother, his head was so far up in the clouds that he didn’t even notice that either. There were much more important things on his mind.

Like the exact shade of red Mito’s hair had been as he had watched her walk away. With the sun shining down and illuminating those two perfect buns atop her crown, he briefly speculated whether anyone else would ever be able to replicate that exact shade of red.

On the day that they met, the first thing Hashirama noticed about Mito was her hair. It was her hair that he dreamed about as his brother lectured him about responsibilities and tending to his duties. Years later he would tell her in a perfectly earnest voice that it was her hair that made him fall in love with her.

And Uzumaki Mito would merely twirl a single red lock around her finger and grace him with a secretive smile.


End file.
